


What You Will

by KingdomKey1121



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingdomKey1121/pseuds/KingdomKey1121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Twelfth Night/She's the Man Elsanna AU - Anna crossdresses and enters a private school pretending to be her brother Hans. She must then endure 12 days of crazy while staving off her suspicious roommate, Kristoff, and fighting her growing feelings for the cold introvert, Elsa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

See, Anna? This is what happens when you rush into things without thinking.

Everyone is staring. This isn’t what I thought it would be like. No, I thought the big reveal would be... funny. Like… Ta-da! Here I am! This is me! But this is not funny. This is the opposite of funny. This… this is hostile. And it’s not just the glare that Kristoff is giving me, although that’s pretty scary too. What makes it worse is that fact that she’s there, right behind Kristoff. I can see her blue eyes glinting at me from under her bangs. That glare, the Death Glare that she usually reserves for the stupid guys in chem who try to purposely set things on fire is now trained on me.

This is bad. This is really bad. How did it get this bad?

* * *

 

The day I decided to put myself through twelve days of chaos wasn’t even in itself a very good one. Homeroom sucked, math sucked, history sucked, lunch sucked. The only thing that didn’t suck was the fact that my English teacher ended up pushing back our literary criticism essay on Macbeth (which I hadn’t even started) to next week. Score one for Anna!

Even soccer practice was unusually sucky - Coach drilled me harder than anyone else and I could still hear the ringing of his whistle in my ear on my way out to the parking lot. To top it all off, I tripped on the tarmac before reaching my car and scraped up my knee pretty badly. So, bleeding and in an altogether dour mood, I drove home.

What was waiting for me at home was not much better. The minute I stepped in the front door, Mom began her usual assault on me, this time about my grades. It wasn’t even that far into the semester but she had already climbed up on her high horse.

“Did you finish your Macbeth essay, honey?” She had been reading on the couch but immediately threw down her book when I entered. I always ended up regretting telling her about school.

I sighed in exasperation before answering. “No, Mom. It’s not due for another week. And I have other things to do… like soccer… and hanging out with my friends...”

“You shouldn’t procrastinate. Imagine all the free time you’d have if you got it done right now!”

“Or imagine all the skills I could acquire on the internet instead!” I said, matching her enthusiastic tone. I started to make a break for the safety of upstairs but she knew me well and stopped me on the first step.

“Your brother has never procrastinated.”

For a moment I pondered continuing up the stairs and ignoring her but I couldn’t ever let that stuff slide, especially when I know that she’s trying to get on my nerves. I wheeled around and hung ostentatiously from the bottommost banister - I knew she hated that. She was convinced that I was a walking hurricane bent on destroying her perfect house.

“Yes, he has, Mom. You’ve just never noticed because gets straight A’s.”

“He has always had more drive than you, Anna. He got admitted into Milton-” the way she said made it sound like heaven on earth “-for his senior year.”

I abandoned the banister and re-entered the living room so the arrows shooting from my eyes could more easily find their target.

“He doesn’t even want to go.”

She looked as if I had stabbed her. “Of course he does. Don’t put down your brother because of jealousy.”

“I am not jealous. You’re just assuming we both want to go to Milton. You’re putting words in our mouths. And grades don’t mean a whole lot, Mother. After I graduate and get a job, no one is going to care that I got a C on my Macbeth essay in 11th grade.”

Her eyes widened with dread. “I can proofread it before you turn it in. When is it due?”

I felt my temper and my voice rising. “Oh, god forbid I get a C!”

“Your brother has never gotten a C! Honey, I just want you to succeed.”

“I do succeed! You just don’t notice!”

And with that, I made a dramatic sweep out of the room and up the stairs, tripping on the top step but catching myself on the wall. Fuming, I threw my backpack furiously into the abyss that was my room and headed straight across the hall to Hans’ domain. My brother always seemed to lighten me up when I was having bad days.

I found him throwing clothes haphazardly into a suitcase when I prodded open the door without knocking. I started immediately on the same track.

“I’m so over listening to Mom harp on about you being her favorite and me being the cockroach that lives under the oven that she cringes at when it makes an unwelcome appearance,” I whined, hopping up onto his bed and bouncing a bit at the landing.

“I love you, sis, but I’m a bit busy. And you’re not a cockroach.”

“What about a dungbeetle?”

He paused in army-rolling a band tee to peck me on the top of the head “You are a human. Hopelessly klutzy, sometimes annoying, sometimes ill-tempered, but still an altogether okay human.”

“Thanks,” I said brightly. He cuffed me on the head where he had just kissed me and turned away to grab cologne bottles from the top of his dresser. “How come you’re packing already? I thought you didn’t start Milton until Monday.”

Milton was the most hoity-toity private boarding school in town. They had uniforms and everything. The acceptance rate into college was higher than any other secondary school in our state. Hans had such good grades that they decided to let him start mid-semester. In the letter they said he was “exactly the kind of student Milton desired.” Mom was thrilled but Hans disagreed. He had less motivation to do well in school than me, but still was super smart. It made me so mad. If I tried hard enough I could totally get into Milton. I just don’t care enough. The real kicker though is that it’s like this grandiose family tradition; Mom’s parents met there and my uncle ended up there too (but Mom herself never went, the hypocrite). And now Hans has been hand-picked to be the next “Milton Star”!

“See, here’s the thing,” said Hans, dropping to the floor to rummage under the bed. “The South Aisle has a gig in London over the next two weeks and you better believe that I’d miss the first day of school for it. This could be a really big deal.”

The South Aisle was the punk rock band formed by my brother and his other three friends Freshman year of High School, much to Mom’s dismay (she wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer). I was the South Aisle’s biggest fan - in 8th grade I hand-made shirts for myself and my friends and screamed through their whole first gig at an empty bar. Let’s just say I was banned from any more rehearsals or shows because they said I was “too rambunctious” but I still nursed a soft spot for anything to do with The South Aisle.

“Ughhhhh, that sounds really fun, take me with you!” I said, watching Hans pack his guitar in its case delicately.

“No, Anna. Your job is to stay here and keep mom off of my trail.”

I groaned in frustration and collapsed face-down on the bed. “Don’t leave me alone with her, please!” My voice was muffled by the comforter but I didn’t care. “She’ll totally notice that you’re gone.”

I felt a mountain of clothes fall on top of me. “Just tell her I’m staying at dad’s or something.”

I now felt the need to yell whilst being drowned in boy clothes. “But you hate staying at dad’s and she knows it!”

“Keep it down! Just tell her dad’s is closer to Hilton.”

“Milton!” I yelled louder out of spite.

“Whatever. It’s a good alibi. You know dad wouldn’t talk to her anyway.”

I found a hole in the pile of clothes above me and surfaced. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously. What about school? They’re expecting you bright and early on Monday morning.”

“Well actually, I was hoping you could help me with that one.”

I pushed myself up on my elbows and gave him a pained expression.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughed, throwing another shirt in my face. “C’mon, you do a really good Mom impression. Call Milton and tell them I have appendicitis or something and won’t be there for a few weeks.”

“Isn’t it against the law to like, impersonate people and also to lie about an illness you don’t have? Do you really want your little sister to go to jail on your account?”

“Anna, you’re seventeen. You’d go to juvie.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Look, sis,” Hans finally sighed, coming to squat next to where I sat on the bed. “I really, really need this. The South Aisle needs this. C’mon. Please?”

And then he gave me one of his signature, full-on pouts. It’s one of those pouts that charms the pants off of teachers, girls, parents… enough for him to get away with almost anything. I’m the only one it didn’t work on because I knew better. I stuck out my own lip stubbornly and crossed my arms.

“Please?” He added some Puss-In-Boots eyes to the equation. I didn’t budge.

“Anna…” he crept closer. “Little sis…. please….?”

And suddenly he launched a tickle assault and with a shriek I fell right off the edge of the bed, landing flat on my back before I even had the chance to counterattack.

“Okay, okay!” I squealed between bursts of involuntary laughter.

“Do you promise you’ll help me?” he said, still assaulting my sides with his fingertips.

“Yes! Yes!” I yelped, cringing away from those fingers and smacking my head on his desk chair. “You bully.”

“Anna… you’re bleeding all over my carpet.” Hans stood. “And there’s blood on my bed, too! What the hell?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, sitting up from the floor. “I tripped after soccer and split open my knee. I guess I forgot about it.”

Hans had already gone to the bathroom and come back bearing Band-Aids. “You’re such a klutz.”

I sat back on his bed, propping up my knee on the mountain of clothes. “You’re supposed to be this genius but this is the best plan you came up with?”

“I’m not a genius. I’m a starving artist,” he said proudly, peeling apart the Band-Aid.

“You know, if Mom finds out she’s going to murder you. Or cry. Or both.”

“She doesn’t understand that I don’t care about school. I just want to be a musician.”

“So tell her! See, this is the difference between you and me, big bro. You stay quiet about what you want and I fight for it!”

He carefully placed the Band-Aid over my cut. “And that’s why you get grounded every other week.”

“Details, details.”

“There ya go, crazy girl,” he said, standing and tossing the wrapper in the trash. “So you will? You’ll do it?”

“Yeah…” I said, sighing dramatically.

“Right on!” he said, excitedly leaning forward and grabbing my upper arms. He shook me with each word to emphasize his point. “You do understand that The South Aisles could be signed while we’re there? This could be our big break! And it’ll be all thanks to you, Feisty-Pants.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off of me. I really was excited for them, but there was still some unfinished business. “But one more thing… what about Ingrid?”

Hans’ face fell instantly into guilt. “Yeah… about that…” I crossed my arms expectantly. “Well, we got into a fight and she’s not talking to me… but I’ve been meaning to break up with her for a while now anyway. But I guess it’ll just have to wait until I get back. I won’t be able to use my phone so it should be okay.”

“You’re just gonna ignore her for two weeks, and dump her?” He didn’t answer. “Well, Hans. You are officially a douchebag.”

“Hey, watch it. When I’m famous I could withhold your comp tickets to my shows.” I slugged him in the shoulder and he danced away, giggling like a fool.

He wasn’t getting away that easy. “But really, what do you want me to do when Ingrid comes around?”

“Uh… avoid her?” he said, zipping up his bulging suitcase. “And hope that she doesn’t come around.”

“Excuse me?” I said in disbelief. “That is not a solution.”

“You’ll figure it out. I believe in you.” And then suddenly, he was in a rush. “Now look, I gotta go. I’m already late. You’re the best, sis. You won’t regret it. See ya soon!”

And with a last peck on my head and the slam of his bedroom door, he was gone.

In the wake of his departure, I looked down on the mountain of clothes he had abandoned on his bed. It was a combination of polos and more band tees. The contrast fit the owner perfectly. What I saw (the band tees) versus what Mom saw (the polos). And hanging in pristine condition in his open closet was the Milton uniform. Freshly-pressed black slacks, a starched white button up, a navy blue jacket, and a blue and white striped tie. I threw a balled-up polo at it and it swung pitifully on its hanger. God, he would just whisk his guitar off to another country and leave me here to cover his ass. He’s lucky I love him.

Dinner that night alone with Mom was an absolute treat, let me assure you. Between the endless complaining about me and the perpetuated praise of Hans, I had a blast. She kept talking about Milton and how excited she was for Hans to go. She lamented greatly on the fact she had a mandatory work meeting Monday morning and could not see to his moving in. I assured her that I would gladly skip school that day to help him myself. Unamused by my sass, she denied me a brownie in punishment.

After that half-hour of torture, I found myself back in my room, staring at my poster-laden ceiling. Directly above me was Mia Hamm in action. Right next to her was a print of a pretty badass painting of Joan of Arc wielding a sword and charging into battle. And right next to Joan was Julie d’Aubigny, this awesome cross-dressing, sword-fighting, opera-singing French woman that my history teacher once mentioned (see, I pay attention in class).

I was studying Madame d’Aubigny in her male attire when I thought of it. It was like the Immaculate Conception but instead of Mary’s womb it was my brain and instead of Jesus it was my idea. My awesome, crazy, hilarious idea.

In seconds I was up and tearing across my untidy room. I flung open the door and marched straight across the hall into Hans’ room.

From downstairs I heard Mom call, “Must you tromp around like an elephant?”

I ignored her as I stopped in front of Hans’ closet and pulled out my phone. I was almost exploding from how excited I was.

“Olaf?” I said when he finally picked up. I was staring at Hans’ Milton uniform with new eyes. “I have a huge favor to ask of you.”


	2. Day One (Monday)

Milton proved to be a very strange place. First of all, the entire campus was enclosed by this ornate fence that stretched on forever on every side and only had two gates allowing people in or out. I almost felt claustrophobic thinking about it. Secondly, the students didn’t really look or act differently than public school kids as far as I could tell. The only difference was the uniforms. And lastly, the Headmaster was very weird.

I was sitting in a surprisingly uncomfortable leather armchair in front of Headmaster Weselton’s glossy desk. It was obvious that he wore a toupee and his beady eyes were staring at me through rounded Harry Potter glasses and down a long nose. His small stature tipped me off that he was probably sitting on more than one pillow so as to tower over his visitors in an intimidating fashion.

The first thing he had done when I walked in was accuse me of tracking in mud on my shoes even though it hadn’t rained for a month.

And then he butchered the pronunciation of my name. Well, my brother’s name. It doesn’t rhyme with pans. Just sayin’.

Oh yeah… you’re probably wondering why I’m in the office of Milton’s Headmaster and why he’s calling me Hans. I skipped a bit of important stuff.

So I spent the entire weekend avoiding Mom (which was harder than you’d think) and putting my plan into motion.

What was my brilliant Immaculate Conception Idea (ICI), you ask? So you know how Hans asked me to call Milton and tell them that he had appendicitis and wouldn’t be back for two weeks? Well, I called my school and told them that I had appendicitis and would be out sick for several days. Then, I told Mom that I would be staying at my friend Rapunzel’s for the first week (because of a school project I made up - genius, right?) and then at Dad’s for the second week. I was not the only one who could impersonate their mom - Punz was awesome at it too and assured me she would make up a good alibi for me if Mom called to check up. Plus Mom refuses to talk to Dad ever so she’d never call over there and that just takes care of itself.

I became a boy over the weekend. No big deal.

My friend Olaf helped a lot with my transformation. I’m not sure if I should be scared by his enthusiastic reaction to the ICI or what but he was at my front door within minutes of me calling to ask him for help.

We spent all of Friday night raiding Hans’ room for clothes that were small enough to fit me. We found a few musky gems in the very back of his closet, shirts that he probably hadn’t worn since 6th grade. They fit me pretty well after the binding. Which hurt a lot, by the way, but you gotta do what you gotta do. My ladies will just have to deal with it.

Then on Saturday, Olaf, Rapunzel, and I went wig shopping and it was probably a lot more fun than it should have been. I now have a whole album on my phone with twenty or so different hairstyles on mine and my friends’ craniums. But yes we did finally find the perfect Hans wig. Olaf even came over giggling and holding two fake sideburns that would match my brother’s, but I refused because they literally looked like pubes. Those were not going on my face.

“But you still look so girly,” Olaf argued, holding the atrocious facial hair pieces up to my jawline. “Your features are too soft!”

I pushed him away, shuddering. “I’m not wearing those, Olaf!”

Rapunzel was staring at me, sucking on an end of long, blonde hair in deep concentration.

“I think it’s the freckles. And the bone structure,” she concluded.

“Foundation does wonders,” I told her, still dodging a giggling Olaf and his gross sideburns.

“But there’s nothing I can do about my bones.”

“Plastic surgery?” suggested Olaf, finally tossing the sideburns on a table. I bopped him on the top of the head and went to check out. I had to convince the cashier that it was a wig for a very, very, very early Halloween party (Punz and Olaf wouldn’t let that one go for the rest of the day).

Sunday turned into an absolutely abysmal game of avoiding Mom and sidestepping questions about Hans. I did, however, find an old Milton guidebook as I was hiding from her in the attic and it had a map of the campus and everything. Even though it was pretty aged, I figured it was still probably mostly accurate. Then Olaf came over again to go over some last-minute ICI things (Punz had an art project to finish and couldn’t be there for the big send-off).

When I had finally crawled in bed that night and was beaming proudly up at my collection of badass lady posters, I thought the starting line for the ICI was clear. Oh, how wrong I was...

The first complication arose this morning when I was leaving the house for Milton. I had my wig secured and my uniform in prime condition. Thankfully Mom had already gone to work so I had full run of the house and I had used my freedom to have a pump-me-up dance party (naturally).

Anyway, as I was closing the door I heard someone open the gate behind me and I froze on the doormat when the voice washed over me.

“Hans! We need to talk!”

I knew immediately that it was Ingrid. Just my luck!

I panicked, covering my face with my suitcase and adopting a deep grunt-y voice. “I can’t talk right now, Ingrid. I have to go to school.” I cringed; Olaf and I had worked on the boy voice for hours yesterday and I was already screwing it up.

“Your voice sounds different. Are you sick?”

“Yes. No. Maybe!” I heard her come closer and I stepped around her, hands still holding the suitcase before my face like a shield.

“Why do you always avoid me?” she pouted and I felt her tug on my sleeve. I jumped, not realizing she was so close.

I made a rambling beeline for the gate and I could hear Ingrid right behind me. She wasn’t going to leave me alone. What was I supposed to do? I did the only thing I could think of.

Stopping right at the gate, I held a hand out behind me and in a slightly more decent boy voice grunted, “This needs to end, Ingrid. You’re crazy and I need a new start.” That’s something Hans would say, right?

“Hans, you are not breaking up with me! I wouldn’t let you the three times before and I won’t let you now!”

I’m not sure what I was expecting but this was not it. He’d tried breaking up with her before? She’s more off the handle than I had anticipated.

“No, Ingrid! This is it, this is the end, I’m letting you go!” I felt like I was in a soap opera.

“You can’t let me go if I hold onto you!”

And she did just that, grabbing my forearms and pinning me to the fence with her body. I felt her breasts pushing into my back and blushed involuntarily.

Hope she doesn’t come around, he said. My brother is the least helpful person on the planet.

After a moment of struggle I managed to unsecure the gate and we both toppled through it and onto the ground. I took TaeKwonDo when I was younger so I had enough sense to roll away from her and spring back up to my feet before she even knew what had happened. I was halfway to the the bus stop a block away when I heard her giving chase and angrily calling my brother’s name. This chick just won’t let up! This explained why she had stopped coming around so often and Hans was embarrassed to mention her.

I made it just in time; the bus door closed behind me and I collapsed on the steps next to the driver as he pulled away from the curb. Ingrid was running alongside the accelerating bus, shouting obscenities, and was soon left behind.

“You can’t sit there,” said the driver, looking down a long nose at me. I looked back up at him, panting and sweaty. “Yeah, sorry….”

I stood and began to move away but he continued, “Was that an ex-girlfriend of yours, son?”

“What?” I said in my normal voice, then I remembered who I was trying to impersonate and cleared my throat ostentatiously. “Oh, yeah. Crazy ex. Broke up with her weeks ago and she can’t let it go. Women.”

The bus driver laughed. “Ain’t it the truth!”

I went off to find a seat, inwardly cringing at this stereotypically sexist straight-boy mentality I had suddenly adopted.

I collapsed, relieved, on a back seat. Well. That was that. Now Ingrid would be out of the way and honestly Hans should just thank me for taking care of his problems for him. He’s so lucky I love him.

Catching the stop for Milton wasn’t a challenge in the least. We drove past the gates every time we were being shuttled to Dad’s. Mom would smile proudly as we passed and tell us one of the five stories she knows about Grandpa’s or our Uncle’s time there, which as I’m sure you guessed got old really fast.

So I arrived at Milton pretending to be my brother and I found my way to the Headmaster’s office to get my room assignment and the opening “Milton is the Best And You’re Lucky to Be Here” speech. I wasn’t disappointed.

“Milton’s reputation for educational excellence is not without merit,” Weselton began in a considerably pompous manner. He continued but I ended up zoning out for most of it and made sure to nod at appropriate times. I was too busy being excited to get started on the schoolwork and showing Mom how easy it would come for me and how I was just as smart and worthy of praise as Hans. I can totally do this.

Ten gruelling minutes later and Weselton was finally wrapping it up. He was man of many flourishes of the hand and false endings. There were more than a few times during his droning speech where I thought he was about to come to a conclusion and I sat in my chair in anticipation - only to have him continue on another track and let me slip back into another stupor.

“...as I’m sure you’ll be another example of the perfect Milton student.”

At this, he peered at me through those spectacles expectantly, as though wanting me to respond.

I opened my mouth hurriedly but the Headmaster immediately cut in. “Here is your room key. Do you need me to escort you there? I was a top-notch tour guide in my college days! Swept the floor during orientation! Not literally, of course.” He chuckled wheezily and nudged me with his elbow. I clutched my suitcase tighter to my chest, suddenly scared for the second time that day that I might be caught before I’d even started.

“Uh… no thanks,” I said, feeling stifled in his presence. “I can find it myself.”

“Then off you go, lad. I’m sure you’ll find Milton the epitome of higher learning.”

“Yeah,” I grunted, “Thanks!” And I scurried away in the most manly fashion I could muster.

I couldn’t help but smile as I exited the Headmaster’s building. I stopped at the top of the steps and inhaled, taking in the blue sky and green--

The door to the building behind me suddenly opened again and since I hadn’t taken any steps away from it because of my distraction, it smacked me in the middle of my back. I lost my balance and flew forward toward the now-intimidating staircase below me. Panicked, I threw my suitcase at the point of impact. Luckily, I landed heavily on it. Unluckily, it then began sliding mercilessly down the steps. I was taken with it, my screams broken by each thump of the suitcase hitting a step. Gravity made me and my suitcase slide increasingly faster the farther down we went and soon I had hit the bottom, flown across the walkway below, and closed my eyes just before slamming straight into a tree.

For a minute or so I couldn’t comprehend what exactly had happened. I could hear footsteps and a voice but I didn’t really register my surroundings until I realized there was a pair of lacy pink panties hanging from a branch right above me.

“Oh my God!” I squealed, sitting up with a lurch. It hurt - I must have hit my head on something - I was a bit dizzy. But not dizzy enough to ignore the fact that my suitcase had burst open and strewn my (very girly) belongings all over the place.

The worst part of it was that there was a guy standing over me - a student, I assumed because he wore the Milton uniform. He was tall and blonde and was _laughing_.

I could have just died and he was _laughing at me_.

I tried not to let it matter though, as I stood unsteadily and shook myself.

“Are you okay?” asked the guy through his chuckles. I brushed weeds from my pants - they were already grass-stained, great. I ignored him and scrambled around chucking my stuff back in the suitcase.

“Dude, that was seriously the best movie-moment-in-real-life I’ve ever seen. I wish I could have got it on video. It would have gotten like a million views on YouTube.”

I summoned all the manliness I possessed and glared him in the eye. I expected him to shrink back or at least stop laughing but if anything this seemed to amuse him more.

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” I said in my boy grunt.

“How could I have know someone would be standing at the top step? No one ever does that. Are you new or something?”

“What’s it to you?”

He only laughed again. I finished gathering my things and sat on the suitcase (it was now dented from the fall) to zip it.

“Hey, you forgot one.”

I looked up and sure enough, there were those pink panties being held out to me by a smirking blondie.

“That’s my sister’s,” was the first explanation I could think of, grabbing them from him and blushing. Dammit. “No idea how they got in here.”

“Sure,” he said, winking. “Ladies man, I can tell.”

“They’re my sister’s!” I said, stuffing the panties as deep into my suitcase as possible. He studied me for another moment.

“You seem like you need help. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine by myself, thanks,” I said petulantly, picking up my suitcase without zipping it and stalking away.

“Come on, newbie. First day?”

“Nope.” I was still dizzy and the suitcase felt heavier when I carried it unzipped, trying to balance it so that nothing else fell out.

“Yes it is, I can tell. Dude, I’m just being friendly. Some people on this campus are not like me at all.”

“Dude,” I said, mockingly. “I’ve got this.”

“Whoa okay, okay,” he said, stopping in his pursuit of me. “Just thought I’d offer some help after almost killing you.”

At least he admits it.

“Naw, man, I’m good,” I said as another pair of lacy panties dropped out of my suitcase like the traitor they were.

“I suppose that’s your sister’s too?” said the guy, bending over and plucking it off the ground. He smirking as he tossed it on top of my head, then turned to walk away, leaving me fuming.

“I’ll see you around, Ladies’ Man!”

In my anger, I threw my suitcase back on the ground, letting all the incriminating objects spill out and sweeping the panties off of my head with a snarl. A passing couple glanced over at my tantrum curiously.

It took me a solid half-hour to recollect my stuff and my temper. It took me another half-hour to find my room. The hall it was in happened to be of course at the opposite end of the campus from the Headmaster’s building. Thank God I didn’t have to wear makeup to crossdress because I was sweating so much by the time I stopped outside of my room that it would have all melted off.

I leaned, panting, against the door and fumbled with the key. The person inside must have heard because the door was pulled open before I could even hope of turning the key in the lock.

The person inside was the last person I wanted to see.

“Hey, Ladies’ Man. Took you long enough.”


	3. Day Two (Tuesday)

Kristoff was his name. The guy who almost killed me. My roommate. Or, actually, Hans' roommate. But under these circumstances, my roommate.

All in all he was a nice guy, but I could tell right away that living with him was going to make this scheme a whole lot harder than I had first anticipated.

I say this because the first thing I did after recovering from the shock of discovering him as my roommate was toss my still-unzipped suitcase on the bed. The bounce forced my box of tampons to burst open and litter the floor between our two twin mattresses with narrow projectile-like objects. It also made Kristoff peer at them, then at me curiously and say, "Why do you have those?"

"I-uh-they-" My mind flew to every possible answer. Tampon, vagina, period, blood. Blood! "I use them to stop bleeding - my nose! My nose from bleeding."

Without a second thought, I bent over and swiped one up from off the floor. With shaking fingers I ripped the wrapper apart, tore off the applicator and stuffed the feminine product unceremoniously up my nose. I spread my arms wide as though I was a magician showing off a trick and even very nearly said, "tada!"

Kristoff was staring at me, brows furrowed and mouth agape. Half-astonished, half-disgusted. His eyes followed the swing of the string hanging over my mouth.

"They're really absorbent," I assured him when he said nothing.

"I will…. take your word for it," he finally said and turned away to re-pack his backpack. He was out the door and off to class within minutes, leaving me alone in the room to unpack my mess of a suitcase.

Thankfully I didn't have to start any classes until the next day, so I collapsed face-down on my bed with a sigh. This was going to be the longest two weeks of my life. I had to just keep reminding myself what it was all for: to show Mom that I could survive in a prestigious school and that I am a hard worker. I just had to, you know, not be caught on the first day.

Kristoff did not come back until almost midnight, by which time I had thrown sheets on my bed and had my desk organized (in an Anna way which is, not very much). I was changed into my (well, Hans') PJ's and was pretending to be asleep when he barged in loudly, chucking what I assumed was his backpack in a corner with a loud thunk and was no sooner spread-eagled on his bed, out like a light with all of his clothes still on. It took me a bit to fall asleep in the wake of his entrance, not to mention his thunderous snores but before I knew it, it was morning.

The second morning went infinitely better than the first. The only hitch I encountered was getting dressed. Kristoff obviously didn't mind in the least - he stripped right in front of me and was in his uniform in minutes without making a big deal out of it. I was surprised by his half-naked form; I knew he was tall but he was really muscular too. He had the build of a football player. Did MIlton even have a football team?

I, of course, could not undress in such an arbitrary fashion. To protect my feminine virtue (but mostly just my secret) I feigned modesty and fled to the bathroom down the hall. This also contained half-naked boys but I, completely red in the face, flew right past them and into the safety and privacy of a stall.

When I had finally been dressed and successfully not caught, I scuttled back to the room wherein Kristoff took it upon himself to be a good roommate.

"Hey, what's your first class?" he asked when I walked in, glancing up from the phone on which he had been taking selfies.

"Uhm," I said, snatching up my own phone from the depths of my unmade bed. I opened the note into which I had typed Hans' class schedule. It was Tuesday, so it would be….

"Chemistry," I answered, continuing to peruse the classes. I hadn't really looked closely at the schedule in my haste to transform myself into a guy and whatnot.

"Really?" he said, springing off of his bed like an Olympic Athlete and coming to look over my shoulder, which of course was really easy because he towered over all five feet of me. "You have it with me! Same time and place."

"Oh, great," I said. I was happy I didn't have to find the classroom by myself on the giant campus, but I also didn't want to spend too much time with Kristoff in case he got suspicious.

"Phys Ed, too. This should be fun, Newbie." He cuffed my shoulder playfully and sent me careening into my desk. "Ah, sorry."

Kristoff and I had chemistry in a building only across the courtyard from our dorm, which was a huge relief for me. Most of the desks were already taken when we arrived. Although there were two seats right next to each other in the back, Kristoff steered me over to the second row where a girl with blonde hair was sitting in between two empty spots. He commandeered one and left me to take the other so that we had the girl surrounded. She was reading a very thick book and took no notice of us.

"Hey, Elsa!" Kristoff said in greeting. "Still reading that long, boring French book, I see."

I noticed immediately that his voice and whole demeanor had changed as he talked to the girl. Elsa, was it? He seemed more demanding of attention and a lot more fake (which was a feat in itself because even though I had only know him for a day I thought him pretty genuine).

"Les Misérables," Elsa corrected, not looking up. Her French pronunciation was perfect.

"Gesundheit!" said Kristoff, chuckling awkwardly at his own joke. Elsa ignored him and continued to read.

Kristoff cleared his throat and scooted his chair a bit closer to the blonde, glancing across her and at me.

"Elsa, this is my new roommate, Hans."

I put on my best Hans smirk and reached out for a handshake like any decent human being. For the first time since they had arrived, Elsa looked up from the grim pages of her Hugo novel and over at me. Her vivid blue eyes travelled from my outstretched palm and came to rest on my face. There, I swear I saw them narrow almost imperceptibly before flitting away again. She did not take my offer of a handshake.

"Hello," was all she said before diving straight back into that book of hers. Before I could even open my mouth to respond to the cold introduction, the teacher entered the room and class began.

The first thing the teacher (I didn't catch the name) did was hand back quizzes that the class had apparently taken the Thursday before. I, of course, wasn't getting anything back because it was my first day, but I did not fail to notice the great, red A on Elsa's quiz as the teacher slid it onto the table before the blonde, as well as the D on Kristoff's.

When the lecture started it was abundantly clear that I was out of my element. Get it? Element. Chemistry. I had never been very good at science and knew nothing about chem because it was a senior-level class and I was technically a Junior although I was pretending to be a Senior (and a dude… but you get it).

I took copious notes about terms and reactions I did not understand and by the end of the lesson resolved to become fast friends with this Elsa girl, the one who read 1,500 page French novels and got A's on pop quizzes. But as soon as we were all released, Elsa stood immediately and stalked out, ignoring Kristoff's and my own attempts at conversation. Becoming friends with Elsa was going to be yet another struggle tacked onto this long train of strife that I had boarded.

The rest of the class took their time in packing up for passing period, but I found Kristoff still looking after the blonde with a somewhat dazed expression on his face.

"She talked to me…." he said, his pathetic infatuation extremely apparent.

"Yeah, and it wasn't even in English," I scoffed. She was a real charmer all right. "Okay, lover boy…" I said, tugging at his uniform sleeve when he didn't make any move to leave his seat.

"Hey," he said suddenly, twisting to face me. "You're the Ladies' Man! You should help me out!"

"You want me to give you advice on how to get into the Ice Queen's pants?"

"She's just shy," he said defensively. "But… well, yes. She's hot, you have to agree."

"I'm glad you like her for her personality," I sniffed in a distinctly feminine tone. I hastily corrected myself, going into a lower register. "I mean, I didn't think you were so shallow, man."

Kristoff did not seem to notice my slip-up, distracted as he was by the blonde's exit. "Dude, c'mon. Please? I'll do anything! Anything!"

Anything, huh? I thought about it for a second. What could I get out of this? Well, if Kristoff was dating Elsa, that would make her one step closer to me. It could certainly make it easier to be my friend so that she could help me with work. I would need help especially with chem but she might be good at English too considering the kinds of novels she reads in her free time…

"Okay, loser. I'll help you."

Kristoff let out a whoop and drew me into a bone-crushing hug. Yeah. He should be a football player.

"You're the man, dude. Hey, it's time for our next class!" He sauntered out of the room with the biggest, silliest grin on his face.

I stood shaking my head in disbelief for a moment before I realized that I was going to be late for the next class and sprinted out after him.

Being tardy turned out to be a good thing for phys ed because it meant the men's locker room was clear of, well, men. It meant that I could change in (relative) privacy, save for Kristoff but he already knew that "Hans" was shy so it worked out. Utilizing the vacant showers, I changed into the ugly navy shorts and T-shirt and soon found myself out on the field with a bunch of other guys who, like Kristoff, towered over me like giants. I should have realized that being five foot tall was an anomaly for guys but it was way too late now.

The team sport of the day was soccer which was another piece of good luck for me. I was gonna kick ass and take names. I was feeling very confident to start, realizing that I missed playing very much even though it had only been four days since my last practice. I was excited, that is, until the Coach announced we'd be playing Shirts and Skins. He had us stand in line and counted us off, and like some kind of nightmare or dark comedy, I was picked to be a shirt. This wasn't gonna do.

"You don't understand, sir," I said, running up to the Coach after the decision had been made. "I- my, uh, religion doesn't let me, uh… show skin. Like that."

He eyed me incredulously. "The universe wanted you to get Skins. So that's what you are."

"No, but- really-" I tried again but was interrupted by a voice from behind me.

"Hey, Coach Kai. Give him some slack." It was Kristoff. "He's new and kinda shy." He elbowed me playfully once he was level with the Coach and I. He was really growing on me, this kid. "I got Shirts, I'll trade teams with him."

Coach Kai's narrowed eyes moved from Kristoff to me a few times in what was a eerily familiar way before finally giving in. "All right, all right, just get out there."

Playing soccer with boys was a lot different than playing with the girls back on my team. Boys were a lot more rough and got sore at losing a lot easier. The amount of times I stole the ball and scored a goal right then and there was hilariously high. I heard every Skin grumbling after the third time this happened and by the fourth they were absolutely furious. It wasn't my fault I was smaller and faster than them!

All in all, I was positively buoyant with happiness and confidence when the class was over. I had absolutely dominated the field and felt all of my made-up "Hans Swagger" come back full force.

Kristoff was giving me a high-five when Coach Kai approached us, clipboard in hand.

"Hans, will you walk with me for a minute before going off to change?"

"Yeah, sure!" I was relieved that I didn't have to come up with an excuse to loiter in the locker rooms, waiting for it to clear so that I could finally change. I waved Kristoff off because he had been lingering and went to follow Coach Kai.

He got straight to the point. "I'm not sure if you know, but Milton has only one school-organized sports team. It's soccer, as you probably guessed. I wondered... if you would maybe want to join it."

This wasn't really what I expected. Then again, I did score four goals without breaking a sweat. "Do I have to… try out for it?"

"Thankfully, we're so low in the league that we'll pretty much take anyone. Especially someone who plays like you do. Think of today's class like a pseudo try-out."

Another reason I hadn't been interested earlier in Milton was that it placed a great amount of emphasis on academics and almost none on sports. This could be a bad or a good thing. For me, it was a bad thing. For Mom, it was the opposite.

"I mean, if you really wanted me on the team and thought I'd be worth it, I can certainly give it a try!"

"You should. First practice is tomorrow. I truly think you should come."

"I will, then! Thanks, Coach!"

"You're welcome." His tone lowered conspiratorily. "I don't make this offer to just anyone…. especially not a girl."

I stopped dead, jaw dropping in alarm. He slowed, turned, and chuckled good-naturedly at my reaction. "You may have fooled Headmaster Weselton and most of the student body, but I know a girl when I see one."

"I- uh- I'm, well you see-" Today was not a good lying day for me by any means.

"Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me. I was actually thinking all class that this could turn out to be a very interesting social experiment."

I stared at him, silent.

"Don't look at me like that, I double majored in Psychology and Sociology in college. Don't ask me how I snagged this job. Now look here, I've been trying to convince administration for years to grant me a co-ed soccer team since they refuse to let me have a female one. This could be exactly what I need to prove to them that it could work. Those misogynistic bastards," he finished under his breath.

"Uh. Yeah," I said when I had finally found my voice again after the initial shock. "Yeah, I like sticking it to the man. Obviously." I gestured to my male uniform and Coach Kai chuckled again.

"Count me in!" I said, holding out my hand and grinning. This was beginning to get very interesting.


	4. Day Three (Wednesday)

When I woke up the next morning Kristoff had already taken off for his first class, which was a great relief for me. So then I naturally took my time dressing leisurely and prancing around our dorm in my underwear. No judgement; I was excited at the fact that I had survived two days of my infiltration of Milton and only one person had suspected me of being a girl. I'd say that was a major accomplishment.

Last night had only had a minor hiccup which was when I accidentally said something about my brother, not realizing that I was supposed to be talking about myself. Kristoff didn't really notice though, because he had been playing Playstation and didn't even bother looking up to question me. I quickly covered it up by making up a family dog that I referred to as my brother - long shot but why not, right? I was literally inventing this new "Hans" as I went so he could be anyone I wanted him to be. And I guess he thinks of his dog as a person.

But yes, I was feeling very high and mighty about my plans but that of course only lasted so long. Because when I got to English class on Wednesday everything got harder. Again.

After glancing around the classroom I concluded that I didn't know anyone. I took a spot at the very back, slinging down my backpack and getting into the best slouched, wide-legged man pose I could. I had gotten to class a bit early so I watched the other students while they entered. I nodded cockily at anyone who glanced my way - who says "Hans" can't be a wannabe gansta?

After a few minutes of this I was trying to hold in snickers about the looks I was getting. Before I could actually bust out laughing at myself, though, a girl sat down next to me. Ordinarily, I would think nothing of this but I could tell out of the corner of my eye that she was turned toward me and staring me down. Slightly frightened that maybe someone was about to catch me, I looked over. She was closer than I realized, so I jumped a bit and scooted away.

She had giant, frizzy hair that desperately needed a good conditioning (and probably a diffuser), a dermatological problem, braces, and thick glasses that made her brown eyes look too big for her face. Basically, she looked like the nerdy heroine of the kind of romantic comedy where the poor girl gets teased and then transformed into a hottie halfway through, winning prom queen at the very emotional climax.

"Hi," she said, clutching a textbook to her chest. Was there a textbook for this class?

"Hey," I said.

"You're the new kid, right?" She didn't have a lisp, so that kind of punctured my stereotypical assessment of her.

"Yeah! I'm Hans," I said, holding out my hand politely. She took it with the very tips of her fingers.

"Gerda," she said, her glasses slipping down her nose. She let go of my hand mid-shake to reach up and prod them back into place. "I have chemistry with you too!"

"You don't say," I said just as the teacher walked into the room. Gerda immediately snapped to face forward and put the textbook in her arms onto the desk so she could lean over and rummage through her bag. A peek at the cover told me it was just a chem textbook, thankfully. For a second I thought maybe my brother had neglected to buy a necessary material. For my use. But that was beside the point.

The teacher was large - both ways. He was bulky and seemed to be almost seven feet tall. He towered over the desk and was eye-level with the top of the board.

"Hello class," he greeted us. He had some sort of weird accent, like German or something European I think. I opened my phone under the desk to check Hans' class schedule to take a peek at his name - Mr. Oaken. Weird.

I felt Gerda elbow me just as I closed my notes app and looked up to find the entire class turned around and staring at me along with Mr. Oaken.

"Sorry? What?" I said, feeling my face reddening.

"I was saying that we had a new student in our class, ya?" He made his way heavily down the aisle and stopped at the back row of desks. "Would you like to introduce yourself to the class? I know your name thanks to my register but the rest of the students probably want to meet you, don'cha think?"

"Uh, sure…" I said, standing awkwardly. The chair slid out behind me and made the most God-awful squealing sound on the tile. I cleared my throat, readying it for the deep male-voice I had practiced all weekend with Olaf. "I'm uh… Hans."

I glanced at Oaken. He nodded encouragingly. "I'm… uh… new."

Then there was a pause during which a few people coughed and I saw most of the students turn back around, uninterested. "

"Yeah," I concluded, sitting down. Funny how Anna was always so talkative but "Hans" was the complete opposite.

"All righty then," said Oaken, making his way back to the front of the classroom. Gerda poked my forearm and gave me a wide, metallic smile and a thumbs-up when I looked over. I returned her thumbs-up and opened my notebook to get ready for a mind-numbing lecture on some boring old book.

And it turned out, of course, that the Senior literature class at Milton was reading the same play as my Junior class back at my school - Macbeth. And guess what they had due next week? A critical analysis on the stupid Shakespeare play. No wonder theatre people never said the name of the Scottish Play, it really was bad luck. And now I really needed to befriend that Elsa girl so I could pass the two weeks of this class. It was imperative that I show Mom (and the school, I guess) that I could do this, even though I wasn't academically-minded. I didn't know what would happen when I was exposed but I was going to guess it wasn't gonna be that great. But it was too late to back out now and besides, if I got caught Hans would get in trouble too and I couldn't do that to him while he and the South Aisles were out following their dreams.

I could tell Gerda wanted to strike up a conversation after class but I headed her off by telling her I had soccer practice (which was true) and made my way out to the field. I was a bit early but it was just as well because Coach Kai was already there setting up cones. He was grumbling when I approached him.

"Hey, Coach!"

He straightened up at my greeting and his face brightened considerably. "You came! Part of me thought you'd chicken out."

"Never," I said, grinning. "Something the matter?"

"Aw nothing, I'm just annoyed that the admins have screwed me over again and have taken away my assistants. Now I have double the work to do. Not that I'm complaining," he added, winking. "They also took my water boy. Who am I going to boss around now?"

I laughed despite myself. "Can I help? I don't have anything else to do until practice."

"Sure!" he said, tossing me the stack of cones. I finished setting out the lines for the field and the goals and was rewarded in gatorade.

When the rest of the team arrived I was once again introduced to the masses, but this time was not nearly as awkward as the one in English. Once all of that was over, Coach Kai started warm-ups and drills with a blast of his whistle. It was all pretty standard, as far as practice went. I was keeping up with the boys fairly well, even though I was now the shortest member of the team.

Everything was going all right that is, until we started our scrimmage. Thankfully the Coach didn't make us do Shirts and Skins again. Instead he gave neon-yellow jerseys to half of us to designate teams. He marked off goals (they had no nets, I mean they had all this money and NO NETS?) and set us to it. Almost immediately after the starting whistle, I got elbowed in the face during the flailing that ensued. Next, I tripped on the gangly legs of a defense guy on my own team who was going for the ball at the same time as me. I didn't understand; I was clumsy on a daily basis but everything came together when I was on the field.

I quickly concluded that it wasn't me, it was the team itself. None of them really knew what they were doing and it was no wonder they were so low in the league. I wasn't sure if it was the coaching or just the general ignorance of the game itself that was the problem.

So although they were all bigger and heavier than me (resulting in some pretty gnarly falls) I did end up scoring two goals for my team using some basic logics. Yes, I was being a ball-hog but I knew soon enough that I couldn't really trust anyone else on my team with it. Every time I passed it, it would get stolen and I'd have to go after it myself because the defense guys were also helpless.

In the end, we won 2-0, but at what cost? I had put so much effort into the win that I couldn't even think from exhaustion. Coach Kai gave us the okay to go home after a brief pep-talk and came over to where I crouch near midfield.

"How was that?" he asked, smiling knowingly down at me.

"Awful. I see what you mean."

"Keep playing like that," he said, reaching down to help me up to a standing position. "The other guys will follow suit. Thanks again… Hans? I should call you Hans, huh?"

"Sure," I said. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go sleep for a century now."

Coach Kai chuckled. "You'll need it. I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks again for your noble sacrifice."

I could barely hobble back to my dorm and promptly collapsed onto my mattress. And that's where Kristoff found me twenty minutes later when he got back from dinner. I was laying face-down, still clothed in my soccer uniform.

"I take it Coach Kai worked you pretty hard."

I just grumbled incoherently.

"I also didn't see you at the dining hall and thought you could use some recovery."

I felt a plastic bottle full of something sloshy hit my back. I reached around awkwardly to retrieve it. Green Machine.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Seriously though," said Kristoff. I felt him sit next to me on the bed. "Are you alive? I can't have my roommate dying on me the third day."

I didn't move. I couldn't, my body felt too sore and heavy.

"I also brought some ice," he continued. Suddenly, the back of my shirt was opened and something freezing cold was being poured onto the bare skin on my back.

That got me up all right.

"You son of a bitch!" I shouted, chasing him in circles around our room. He was laughing like a maniac, hopping up on our beds to evade my fists. I caught hold of his shirt and brought him down as he was turning. He hit the ground hard and I landed right on top of him.

Before I could comprehend what had happened, I found my own face inches from Kristoff's. For a second we both froze, staring fearfully into each other's eyes. Then, both of us crawled away from each other, yelping. We both stopped, backs to our beds, breathing heavily.

"Dude! I'm sorry!" I said, making sure to sound super masculine. Melted ice dripped its way down my back and pooled on the floor.

Kristoff ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing straight up. His face was bright red. "That was…"

"Let's not talk about it!" I said. I got up and jumped into my bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin and not even bothering to change out of my uniform. This was not how I was going to get caught!

"Here," said Kristoff, throwing me the Naked Juice he had brought me. "Drink your protein, loser."

I was so embarrassed I didn't say anything for the rest of the night, pretending to read Macbeth but stealing glances over at Kristoff to make sure he wasn't going to suddenly catch onto me and the ICI. The redness in his face never really faded.


	5. Day Four (Thursday)

Every morning seemed to get a little easier than the last. Despite the awkwardness of the night before, Kristoff was his usual beaming self when we left for chem together. The brief walk across the courtyard to the science building was filled with nothing but hopeless, infatuated sighs from Kristoff about the mysterious Elsa.

"Do you always sit next to her during chem?" I asked, trying to break up the endless stream of smitten gibberish.

"Yeah, I do. I can't stay away from her!" he said, sighing in a very girly fashion. "She always smells really nice too."

"Okay, first off, if you actually want a chance with her, you need to stop obsessing over her and think of her as a human being, because that's what she is," I said, opening the door to the science building and holding it for Kristoff. I peered up at his face - his eyes were glazed. If he wasn't listening to me, so help me…

"Right, dude?" I asked forcefully, punching his giant bicep as hard as I could muster. We mounted the stairs, heading for the classroom on the second floor.

"Whatever you say, Ladies' Man, you're the expert" he replied, pushing me back playfully and sending me into the wall. After these girl lessons, the next thing I will need to teach him is how to conserve that limitless football-player strength of his.

"Okay, how about you don't sit next to her today. You're probably suffocating her," I said, rubbing the shoulder that had just been smashed into the wall. This comment left Kristoff looking guilty and disappointed.

"Will you still sit by her? I need an inside man to stake her out for me."

We had stopped right outside of the classroom - class was about to start and I was looking at him in fake exasperation. I was honestly okay with this idea - if I could somehow become friends with the Ice Queen then she could help me on my work and I could get awesome grades and show Mom that I wasn't worthless.

"Yeah, yeah okay. Let's go, we're gonna be late."

We finally entered just as class was starting. The teacher glanced up at us from over the attendance sheet she was reading from when we opened the door. Under her scrutiny, I scurried to a seat next to Elsa, who not-surprisingly didn't look over at me, even as I slid into the chair beside her. My name was called right as I threw my backpack at my feet and I momentarily forgot to use my guy-voice to say "here". At this slip-up, I noticed a twitch in Elsa and desperately hoped that it was only a weird nuance of her personality and that she didn't actually notice the brief higher register of my voice.

Kristoff passed by mine and Elsa's table to favor one in the back (per my instruction). After roll call, I glanced back to him and he gave me a thumbs-up. I shook my head at his enthusiasm and turned back to face the front, devoted to the idea to try my hardest to pay attention to today's lecture.

To my surprise, however, there wasn't even a lecture today, there was a lab. At this announcement, I felt my stomach drop. Put hazardous chemicals in my clumsy hands and I was sure to accidentally send someone to the hospital. It was a curse and a blessing, therefore, when Elsa and I were paired together to do the experiment. It was a blessing because Elsa was smart as hell and I now had the chance to talk to her, but it was a curse because I could now potentially blind or kill her or something.

I took another glance back at Kristoff to see who he got as his partner - it was that girl that I had met in English yesterday, Gerda. The one with the hair and the braces and stuff. Kristoff looked less-than-thrilled to be working with her but whatever. Man's gotta take one for the team.

"Okay," I said, picking up the lab sheet and scanning the instructions. "So… what are we doing?"

"Titration," said Elsa simply, already pulling the instruments on the desk towards herself.

"Right, of course" I said, quickly pulling out my phone to google the word before I came off looking like an idiot.

"Hey, can you hold this?" Elsa asked before I could get a definitive answer out of the search engine (all the definitions were in Science-Speak, which is a language I am not fluent in, in case you were wondering).

"Yes, yeah," I said as she handed me some kind of beaker filled with a grayish liquid that I could not identify. I looked over at her and saw that she was measuring some kind of clear liquid into a dropper thing. I glanced back down to the lab sheet on the table in front of me. Sure enough, the lab was titled "titration". Good. Glad we got that settled.

As I waited for her to finish measuring, I took the opportunity to size up the mysterious blonde. She was very beautiful, Kristoff did have a point. She wore makeup but it wasn't a lot, it was just the perfect amount and done perfectly too. Rapunzel had always tried to teach me how to do my makeup properly but I found it easier and faster to just slap it on and go (this had always irked her but I didn't care enough). Elsa's hair was also perfect. It was braided down the back of her head and the end of it hung loosely off her shoulder. Her bangs were too short to be a part of the braid but were pushed back fashionably away from her face.

Yeah, Kristoff was way out of his league.

"Thanks," said Elsa shortly, lifting the beaker out of my hands. She didn't look over at me even though she must have known I had been staring.

"Now what?" I asked leaning my head on a fist and attempting for the third time to read the lab sheet.

"We have to put drops of this into the beaker and make notes on the reaction," Elsa said, holding up the dropper in preparation.

"It's not going to explode on us, is it?" I asked nervously.

"No, it's not going to explode," she said. I was surprised to hear a hint of amusement in her voice.

I took this as a good sign and continued. "I'm not really good at this chemistry thing."

"It's a good thing you have me, then, isn't it?" she replied. "Ready to observe?"

I quickly took up my pen and notebook. "Yes, ma'am!"

She gave a short laugh and began putting drops in the beaker. It started to fizz a bit and turn brown. I wrote that down, then took a moment to glance back behind me at Kristoff. He was apprehensively holding a dropper over his own beaker and Gerda was carefully reading the instructions out loud to him. I held in a laugh at this unlikely pair as I turned back to my own experiment.

"You got it down?" asked Elsa, already emptying the beaker and preparing the next dropper.

"Yeah!" I said. So the Ice Queen was actually nice. Maybe she was just shy or something. This was going a lot better than I thought it would. Okay, it was now time to initiate step two.

"Say," I said as Elsa put the last set of drops in the solution in the beaker. "I'm not sure if you knew this, but this is my first week here at Milton."

"I did notice," she said, not looking over at me.

"Well…" I said, hesitating. Just do it, Anna. Rip off the bandaid. "I'm trying to get to know people and make some buds, you know? So I wondered if you wanted to hang out sometime. My roommate, Kristoff, and I were gonna go out on the town tomorrow night, if you want to join."

Without a pause and still without looking over at me, Elsa said, "this sounds like a date."

"What? Not at all. No. Three people isn't a date."

"If you say so," she said, emptying the last beaker and rinsing it with water from the sink. "Sure, I guess I could hang out with you two."

"Thanks, it really means a lot to me." Dammit. That sounded so girly. "So we'll pick you up… sometime. Uhh… maybe we should exchange numbers so I can send you more details later."

Great, now it sounds like I'm hitting on her. Am I hitting on her? I'm doing this for Kristoff, remember?

"Okay," she said, waiting expectantly for me to pull out my phone. I did and she slowly gave me her number so I could type it into my contacts.

"Awesome," I said. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"I guess so," she said, giving me the barest hint of a smile. "Hans, right?"

"Right," I said as the bell rang. Elsa immediately rose, shouldering her backpack and grabbing our finished lab to hand it in at the front of the room. I watched her leave until I felt large hands descend on my shoulders and heard Kristoff's voice close in my ear: "how'd it go, man? I saw you two talking a lot."

I stood and held out my hand in a mock-professional way. "Congratulations, Mr. Bjorgman, you have a date with the Ice Queen."

"No way," was all he could muster.

"Way."

He slapped away the hand I was holding out and picked me up in a crushing hug. Thankfully, I saw it coming so I made sure to cross my arms over my chest before he got another surprise entirely.

"Ow… dude… Kristoff… can't breathe…"

"Dude!" he said, finally setting me back down on the floor again. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me! And to think I almost killed you on the stairs of the Headmaster's office."

"Yep. That's definitely a thing that happened."

"I have a date with Elsa," he continued distractedly, running his fingers through his sandy hair. "I can't believe it."

"Well, she doesn't know it's a date. And I guess I'm third-wheeling it…"

"Wait, what? You didn't ask her on a date with me?"

"Well… no," I said, watching Kristoff's jaw drop. I quickly added, "she thinks it's a hangout with us three but it can be really easy to make it into a double date. Like, so easy."

"Double date? Who are you going to bring?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet."

"Okay… well it's not exactly what I wanted but it's definitely better than nothing. Thanks, broski," he said, making like he was about to slap me on the shoulder again. I ducked and held out a finger. "Do that again and I swear I will break your hand. I have a black belt in TaeKwonDo."

He laughed. "Deal."

Needless to say, we were late to Phys. Ed. Coach Kai seemed not to mind so much, probably because I was such a good soccer player. Favoritism is totally a thing, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Anyway, soccer is what we were still playing. With that and the new team practices I now had, I just couldn't get away from it but you weren't about to hear me complain about it.

What I was going to complain about was the fact that I was still sore from practice the day before. Kristoff's gift of Green Machine was thoughtful but no amount of liquid protein could have stopped the pain I had inflicted in my legs.

Because of this, running down the field was literally a pain in my ass and I didn't try as hard as I normally would have. I felt bad slacking off in class, but I just couldn't do it. I was so focused on the pain that I wasn't even thinking straight and this caused another near-miss of outing my secret identity.

At one point during the game, I was going for the ball and one of my teammates thought it would be helpful to kick it towards me…. what he did not expect, however, was that it would come at me too high and hit me right in the coochie.

There was an immediate and intense reaction from everyone on the field - I heard almost twenty males gasp in commiserate pain. For a second I was really confused - yeah it was not a pleasant experience, but I wasn't a guy so -

But I was a guy. Or at least they thought I was.

It was a few moments too late, but I fell to my knees all the same, clutching my imaginary testicles.

"Oh… nooo…" I moaned, feigning injury as best as I could, knowing that Coach Kai probably finding this is the funniest thing ever. It kind of was, but this was not the time for me to laugh about it.

"Someone get him some ice!" I heard Coach bark.

"I'm on it," I heard Kristoff say. I peeked up to see the whole class gathered around me, looking extremely sympathetic. Beyond them, I glimpsed Kristoff running at full speed toward Coach's office.

"We'll call class there for today," I heard Coach Kai say. "Get out of here, give Hans some space."

The boys meandered away and Coach came straight to me, holding out a hand to help me up.

"Good one," he said lowly, great amusement coloring his tone. "You'll have to pretend to limp for a few hours to make it believable."

He laughed outright as I glared at him. Just then, Kristoff returned with an ice pack.

"Here ya go, buddy," he said, handing it to me. I had no choice but to hold it to my unhurt crotch.

"Thanks," I said, pretending to clench my jaw in pain.

"This has been quite the interesting first week at Milton for you, hasn't it?" Kristoff said, putting an arm around my shoulders and helping me back to the locker rooms.

"Sure has... " I said, glancing back at Coach Kai, who only winked at me.


	6. Day Five (Friday)

I slept fitfully Thursday night. Whether it was the stress of the impending "Friday Night, Date Night", or the strain of pretending to have gotten hurt at practice, I couldn't even begin to know. In any case, my sleep deprivation proved so bad that when I went to English I could barely keep my eyes open. Of course, it didn't help that Macbeth was the most boring thing ever and I didn't even have time the night before to read the assigned pages. Needless to say, my interest level was at zero. I knew that I needed to do something about the stupid play soon so that I could come up with a paper topic on it – the paper that was due a week from today, I might add. I promised myself that I would settle down before the big double date and SparkNote that shit.

Speaking of the double date, I still didn't have anyone to bring. I felt like I should be a little more stressed out about it than I was. I was just too tired to care. My head was rested comfortably in my hand and I found my brain slipping in and out of focus as Mr. Oaken droned on and on about soliloquies and hand washing. I felt my eyes drooping and jerked myself awake. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gerda, who was sitting next to me again, look over at me curiously. I cleared my throat and sat up straight, trying to force myself to stay awake.

But soon my chin had drifted back into my palm and I found myself contentedly staring at the board without seeing it. After a few minutes of spacing out, I let my eyelids drift shut, justifying the decision by promising myself I'd open them again in just a second.

Next thing I knew, I was being prodded awake by a meaty finger. Oaken's, to be exact.

"Where's the bacon?" I asked involuntarily as I sat up, brown hair falling into my face. The class burst into laughter and Oaken crossed his arms, looking down at me intently as I realized where I was and what had happened. My boy wig had gone askew in my sleep and I quickly reached up to pull it right, hoping that no one had noticed.

"Are you all right?" Oaken asked me in his weird accent. At this, the class quieted down a bit but some of them continued to giggle under their breath.

I glanced over at Gerda. She wasn't laughing. I only saw genuine concern in the eyes behind the thick lenses. Then, without warning, I had another epiphany, one almost equal to the ICI – I should ask Gerda on the double date tonight. I doubted whether or not she ever actually got asked out so she would probably be more than ecstatic. It might be a little awkward because I don't know her well but I did know she was nice and cute and everyone deserved to be asked out on a date from time to time, dammit (even if it was on false pretenses).

"Hans?" Oaken said again. I realized I had never answered him and was staring awkwardly at Gerda, whose eyes of concern had turned to eyes of acute confusion.

"I'm good, I'm great," I said, stretching on the pretense to check one more time that my wig was securely on my head. "Nothing to see here."

I made a point of opening my battered copy of Macbeth to a random page and looking up at Oaken expectantly. The class laughed once more just as the bell rang. Time sure flies when you sleep through class, huh? I hurriedly packed up my stuff, hoping to catch Gerda on the way out and ask her about tonight.

Oaken, however, stopped that plan right at the get-go.

"Can I have a word with you, Hans?" the English teacher asked, beckoning me to join him at the front of the classroom.

"Sure…" I said, disappointedly watching Gerda slip out of the room.

Oaken waited until the classroom had been cleared before giving me a sly sideways glance and carefully pulling open a drawer of his desk.

"I think I may have something that can help you," he said and plucked a little glass bottle from the depths of the drawer.

"Oh… yeah?" I said, morbidly confused. What would he think I needed help with? Surely he hadn't also figured out my secret like Coach Kai had?

"Male-pattern baldness is nothing to be ashamed of, ya?" he continued, thrusting the bottle into my hands.

"I… what?" was all I could manage.

"I saw that little slip of your wig when you woke up just then."

I could only stare at him in astonishment.

"Your secret is safe with me, ya? Lucky for you, I have just the thing! Rub this ointment on your poor bald head."

"I—why do you have this?" I asked, turning the little bottle over in my fingers.

"My family owns a shop that sells all sorts of little trinkets and miscellaneous things, ya?"

Just then I noticed the little logo on the back of the bottle – it had little ice picks in a cross and over it in capital letters the words OAKEN & ASSOCIATES.

"Wow. Okay," I said as he beamed at me in satisfaction. "I will – I – will certainly try this…

stuff."

"It's on the house!" he said.

"Thanks…" I said and glanced at the clock next to his head. "I have to go, but I'll uh… let you know how it is?"

"Good, good!" said Oaken, ushering me to the door and not giving me enough time to wonder why he had ointment for baldness handy in his desk drawer. "And if it works, you could even write a review for ! I will give you extra credit, ya?"

"Great," I said, wanting desperately to leave this increasingly uncomfortable situation.

"Don't fall asleep in my class again," was the last thing he said before closing the door right behind me. Once it had been snapped shut, I had to take a second and shake myself out – I almost couldn't believe that had just happened. I was torn between relief that he hadn't figured out my secret and wonderment at the fact that he had guessed an entirely different and hilariously false secret.

This school was getting weirder and weirder.

By a crazy awesome stroke of luck, when I was leaving the language arts building who did I find on a bench right outside it but GERDA. I almost straight up cried out from relief when I saw her and probably startled the poor girl when I marched straight for her.

"Hans!" she said, somewhat surprised, as I neared.

"Gerda, hey, I have something to ask you real quick," I said, cutting straight to the chase. I was running out of time – Kristoff was counting on me. I sat down right next to her on the bench – it was only in hindsight that I saw that this was probably intimidating but in the moment I was too preoccupied trying to get an answer from her to care.

"Yes?" she said, looking suddenly apprehensive. Maybe it was because her glasses magnified her eyes to the relative size of a grasshopper's.

"Hey so Kristoff is going to dinner with Elsa tonight and we thought it'd be cool if we made it into like a double date thing and I wondered if you wanted to be my date, Gerda?"

I smiled at her expectantly. She looked as if she had been frozen.

"Well? What do you think? It doesn't even have to be a date or whatever, it can just be a hangout." The longer I talked the more I realized I was backing myself into a corner. "But if you want it to be a date, that's totally cool too, like, I'm up for whatever."

I smiled at her, biting my lip to stop myself from talking before my stupid comments made her hate me and decide not to come with us.

To my delight, however, she said, "Sure, I'll go."

"Yes!" I said, springing to my feet and probably scaring her again. "You won't regret it, I

promise."

We exchanged numbers and I bid her goodbye, wanting the solace of my dorm room.

"Kristoff," I said when I had returned. He was sitting at his desk and swiveled around in his chair to face me when I entered. "We are in business!"

I was intensely relieved to find out that you didn't need special permissions from administration to leave campus like you would to leave Hogwarts for Hogsmeade. We didn't go far – Olive Garden was just down the street from Milton. Kristoff and I had decided on the semi-fancy restaurant because it could still be perceived as casual to the untrained eye (AK A it would help Elsa believe the lie that I had told her about it not being a date) but also works to fool those who did think/want it to be a date (like Kristoff).

Kristoff and I met the ladies outside the admin building (the one Kristoff tossed me off of on Monday). When we arrived we found that both Elsa and Gerda had beat us to the meeting spot and were standing together awkwardly and silently. Gerda was wearing a summer dress and Elsa had on dark jeans and a light blue top. This girl really knew how to dress.

"Hey!" I said, waving to them. Gerda waved back in what looked like relief but Elsa merely nodded to us. When I noticed that Kristoff had not made any greeting, I slugged his arm.

"Yo!" he said, not making eye contact with Elsa. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes.

"Shall we?" I asked and led the way out of the ominous front gates and out onto the sidewalk just beyond them. It was a pretty awkward walk - we went single-file and no one said a thing until we arrived at the restaurant ten minutes later.

We could not escape socializing when we had gotten sat, though, because we had been given a booth and everyone knows how private and inclusive booths could feel.

So then there we were - Kristoff and Elsa on one side of the table and Gerda and me on the other. The four of us remained silent until we had been served breadsticks. When the server brought them, Kristoff immediately began to stuff his face nervously. So unbecoming.

Trying to once more NOT roll my eyes at his behavior, I kicked out at his feet to get his attention. It didn't work like it does in movies. I had to resort to Plan B. When Elsa was safely looking at the menu I cleared my throat loudly, hoping to catch his eye. Nothing.

"Do you need a cough drop?" Gerda asked me after this embarrassing display. "I have several in my purse."

"No, no, I just swallowed wrong," I said, coughing a bit more for effect before reaching for my water glass. As I took a sip, I saw Elsa staring across the table at me with that familiar unfathomable expression.

"So," I said after a few more painful minutes of silence. "How was everyone's week?"

"Great!" said Kristoff, too loudly. I think he realized his volume because he immediately lowered his voice, gesturing across the table. "Gerda?"

"Oh, mine was fine," she said. "It's nice to have an excuse to go out for a change. Homework can be sort of boring after a while."

"I feel that," said Kristoff, grinning at Gerda.

This was getting ridiculous.

I pulled out my phone and quickly opened a message to Kristoff: stop paying more attention to my date than your own dude! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE DONT WASTE IT

"How was your first week at Milton, Hans?" Gerda continued. "Crazy, I bet." I quickly hid my phone under the table but kept my thumb hovering over the "send" button so that it wouldn't be obvious to the girls that I was texting someone across the table.

Before I could answer, however, Kristoff butted in. "That's an understatement! This kid, lemme tell you, has been through so much and he's still standing! Has he told you the story of how we first met on Monday-?"

To distract the conversation from me, I hurriedly sent my text and moments later a chime echoed from within the bowels of Kristoff's jacket. He fumbled to check it, as I sat and pretended to not be interested, hoping he wouldn't make it obvious that it was from me. But once he'd scanned the message twice he looked right at me and I decided in a split second to make an evasive maneuver.

"Bathroom," I said and stood. Unfortunately, I ran straight into a server on her way to the table next to us. My shoulder upset the hold she had on her tray, causing water-filled glasses to fly onto our table, splattering all of us.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry" I said frantically. I was dripping wet and saw that Elsa was especially soaked. Kristoff was never going to forgive me, and probably not Elsa either. So much for my homework advisor.

The server ran off to find towels for us, and Elsa stood, looking incredulous, and began to shake the worst of the wetness from herself. Kristoff scooted out of the booth to help dab her with a napkin but Gerda remained in her seat, removing her water-speckled glasses and wiping them on the bottom of her dress.

Just as I was thinking that this could not possibly get any worse, it did.

"Hans!"

It was the wrathful cry of an emotionally injured dragon. I turned slowly to face the voice and lo and behold – there was Ingrid in all her ex-girlfriend glory.

My whole party stopped in drying themselves to look at me, each with a different expression on their face. Kristoff looked impressed because I was once more upholding my "Ladies' Man" persona. Elsa seemed to be sizing me up in a way that made me half uncomfortable and half flattered. Gerda, on the other hand, was the only one reacting appropriately – the fear on her face reflected the fear that had been born deep in the pit of my stomach.

"Ingrid," I said shortly, throwing a napkin on my head so she wouldn't see that I wasn't, in fact, my brother. I had come so far, I didn't need to be outed tonight!

"Why haven't you returned my calls?"

Because Hans is in London and can't receive calls.

"I told you, Ingrid, it's over. Please don't make a scene here."

We had to get out of here. How could I possibly let Kristoff know that this was a dangerous situation and that we had to leave immediately? I couldn't even see with the napkin over my face…

"Why are you all wet?" I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I flinched, turning away and tearing the napkin from my head. In a moment of panic, I reached up to make sure my wig was still in place.

"I can't do this right now, Ingrid."

"Stop running away from me!"

"I'm not," I said as I tore across the dining room. I could hear her footsteps right behind me. I tried not to notice the people at other table staring as I passed.

"Hans, stop! HANS!"

I made a beeline right for the men's bathroom and was soon safely inside it. I could hear Ingrid pound on the door - thankfully I was alone with the urinals. How in the world did my brother put up with her for so long?

"Hey!" I heard another voice. Elsa's? "Leave him alone. Hans said it was over, why are you making this so hard?"

"Who the hell are you?"

"A friend of his from school."

"Friends? Yeah, you'd better just be friends."

Elsa thinks we're friends? I guess this night was going better than I thought.

"It wouldn't matter anyway. Didn't you hear him? It's over. Or do we have to spell it out for you?"

"I'll spell out my fist all over your face!" Whoa. Aggressive much?

"Do that and you'll regret it," came Kristoff's voice, marred by anger.

Another unfamiliar voice joined in the hubbub. "Excuse me, you are no longer welcome on our premises. Please leave or we will be forced to call the authorities.

I thought this would be a good time to make a reappearance. I came out of the men's room to a truly hilarious sight - Elsa and Ingrid in a stand-off, Kristoff and the Olive Garden Manager in their own. Then there was Gerda, who was standing in between them all, nervously yet intently glancing back and forth as if rubbernecking at two different car crashes. To top it all off, the server I had run into and the host were peeking around the corner, entertained by the drama.

"We were just on our way out," I said apologetically to the manager, taking Kristoff by the elbow and marching him out the front doors and motioning for the ladies to follow.

Our quartet struck out a swift path back down the sidewalk to Milton, all of us still breathing hard from the confrontation at the restaurant. I realized with a sigh that my shirt was still damp.

Gerda, who was a little behind us, said shakily, "I've never been kicked out of a restaurant before."

"If you hang out with this guy," Kristoff said, punching my arm playfully. "You'd better get used to it!"

"It was kind of exciting!" Gerda added, giggling.

"Yeah, sorry about that, guys," I said, embarrassed. "My ex is…. well. An ex."

"Dude," said Kristoff, already back to his optimistic self. "You have, like, a stereotypical crazy ex! That's so AWESOME."

Elsa scoffed. "You deserve a lot better than her."

I was so taken aback by this comment that I stopped walking, causing Gerda to almost run into me. I picked up my pace again so that my stride matched Elsa's.

"Yeah… hey, so, listen… thanks for fighting my battle for me. You the real MVP."

"Honestly," she said, "that was more fun than a stuffy old dinner anyway."

And then she laughed, and the way she laughed made us all laugh. The Ice Queen was human after all.

When we got back to campus, we grouped in a circle outside of the admin office building for our goodbyes.

"Since tonight's hang-out didn't work, maybe we should all try it again some other time," said Elsa, to my surprise.

"Yeah, I'm down!" piped up Kristoff at once. "Are you coming to the paintball game tomorrow?"

"I'll come and watch!" said Gerda.

"Great!" I said. "Elsa?"

"I'll guess you'll have to find out," she said as she smirked and started to walk away.

"Wait, does that mean you're playing?" Kristoff called to her retreating form.

"You'll have to wait and see!" she said.

"What team are you on?" he tried again.

"Goodnight!" was all the answer he got.

"Night!" the rest of us chimed in as we watched her get swallowed by the darkness.

The more time I spent with Elsa, the less I understood her. But I did know one thing; smiling suited her. She should try it more often.


End file.
